


Northern Lights

by Xiiee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Falling In Love, His Dark Materials AU, M/M, Peapod McHanzo Week, Sharing a Bed, The Golden Compass AU, hanzo falls in love when someone holds their ground against him, in which everyone has a daemon, jesse is a good man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13261938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiiee/pseuds/Xiiee
Summary: For the Peapod McHanzo week, and cramming day one and two in a single fic because I am late as usual! His Dark Materials/The Golden Compass AU: Genji has been taken away from his brother, and Hanzo hired a man to guide him through the barren snowy lands to find his brother.Themes included:Day 1: Oh no, we have to share a bed...Day 2: AU





	Northern Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Wyntera and Aughtpunk for kicking our asses into a nice shipping week and coming up with this!

 

When Hanzo first heard of the gunslinger, he had expected something else. Well, some of his assumptions were true: tall, handsome, and deliciously rugged were all true when it came to Jesse McCree. However, from how people described him in the places Hanzo stopped to ask, he had also expected someone who would definitely grate on his nerves and annoy him to no end. A buffoon with an overly excited dog for a daemon, for example. 

What he hadn’t expected was how knowledgeable the man was and how resourceful he proved to be in almost every situation. For a Southerner, he was more than apt in the cold plains they traveled. Nova, his red fox daemon, spoke with the voice of a wise woman and placidly walked by his side whenever they traveled. In the end, Hanzo was glad he picked the man as his travelling companion and guide in exchange for some money and grub. McCree was good company, talkative where Hanzo was rather silent, yet never boring or overbearing. The gun at the man’s side did make Hanzo nervous at first, but the weeks spent on their journey together had turned it into a reassuring sight. Just as reassuring as the hunting rifle slung over his own shoulder. Hanzo had every intention of using it by the end of their trip. 

It had been a bit over a month since Genji hadn’t come home from school. Since their parents died, Hanzo had been put in charge of taking care of his younger brother -- and until the moment he disappeared, had been proud to note he did an okay job at taking care of the ten-year-old. Some people even thought he was old enough to look like his father. Their relationship had changed from somewhat-distant brothers because of the wide age gap between them to a strange mix of brotherly love and parental care. And just when Hanzo had started feeling comfortable in that new family life, rumors about people abducting children started. People called them the Gobblers, and the disappearances seemed widespread. Hanzo had doubled prudence and made sure he walked Genji to and from school every day. Until the boy didn’t show up to the gate. 

Hanzo had waited along with two other couples, everyone looking more nervous by the minute as they expected their children to walk out of the building. To no avail. No one came except for a teacher who did not know where the kids went. The Gobblers’ menace had hovered above the city like a ghost, hitting other families but never his own until that day. Hanzo had become part of that group of Them, the Them people spoke of when they talked about families losing their children to the abductors. 

From then on, time became a blur. The authorities never seemed to get any intel on the abductors. People organized their own militias and information network. They protected themselves better, but it was too late. Genji was gone. Next thing Hanzo knew, he followed a trail someone told him about in a bar, traveled further north and enrolled one Jesse McCree for his services. 

Teijo flew in circles above their heads, a brown and white spot against the purple and orange of dusk. The weather was getting colder and colder as they went towards north, McCree pointing out that he knew the area and that there had been some unusual interest in the place lately, as well as high traffic for an area as desolate as the snowy plains of Bolvangar. Even the name had a cold, ominous meaning to it. The Fields of Evil were probably not a place where the only activities proposed were harmless arts and crafts. 

“Are you sure this is where we’re supposed to go?” Hanzo had to almost yell to cover the roaring of the snowmobile. They still had enough coal spirit to last them for a day or two of travelling, but the idea of being stuck on foot in the middle of icy lands wasn’t what he’d call promising. The wind was already freezing him to the core despite the thick winter clothes he bought for the journey. The only warmth he found was where his chest and thighs pressed against McCree’s, and it wasn’t exactly warm per se. More like not too cold yet. Hanzo was careful of the way he held onto the other man, trying not to touch a hair of Nova’s fur as she huddled up between her human and the handlebar. Touching someone else’s daemon was taboo, and there were limits Hanzo was not keen on crossing.  

“Sure am!” the reply came, muffled by McCree’s scarf. “There’s been an awful lot of zeppelins flyin’ that way compared to the usual. That and rumors comin’ from some Tartar fisherman I met in the last town we passed. You cold there?”

“Fine, I am fine,” Hanzo lied, holding tight onto McCree’s waist. Cold or not, he had to get to Genji, and he wouldn’t let his own weakness slow him down.

“Well, I am. We’re stopping for the night.”

He however wouldn’t blame his guide’s tolerance to the weather. He needed McCree’s help, and the man knew the region better than Hanzo ever would. If he said they had to stop, then they’d stop. 

His legs felt stiff as he stepped into the snow, barely sinking at all. Everything seemed packed and iced over in this region. It would be yet another night spent in the cold with his guide and their daemons. Over their travels, Hanzo had found out that McCree knew how to make camp cozy even in the coldest nights. The way he pulled the tarp over the snowmobile, using it as an anchor for the tent to hold, and how he worked so that the campfire’s heat would be directed at the spot where they’d sleep never ceased to amaze Hanzo. He had even started picking up on how things were done, and could finally be a proper helper instead of standing there and feeling useless while his guide did all the work. 

Hanzo was about to push the snowmobile in the spot McCree indicated when a large bundle of brown and white feathers dive-bombed into his chest, sending him on his back into the snow. His mountain hawk-eagle daemon sometimes seemed not to remember that it could not turn into smaller birds anymore and that his mass was considerably bigger and harder to catch now that he was sealed in this form -- a rare annoyance, but still one when it happened. 

“Teijo, the hell?” he managed to sputter, trying to ignore the loud bark of laughter coming from McCree’s side of the snowmobile. The raptor daemon struggled to get back on his two legs, wings flapping haphazardly before he righted himself, finding his perch on the handlebar. Hanzo winced and got back up, patting off the snow that clung to his clothes. This certainly didn’t solve the cold problem. 

“There are lights,” Teijo said, hopping closer to his human and giving McCree a quick glance. “Far in the distance, about a day’s travel. There was a big round shape too, like a zeppelin.” 

The two men exchanged a look, staying silent for a few seconds as they digested the new piece of information. Hanzo had felt Teijo tugging at the invisible link between them all day long, pulling it to its very limit and making him feel slightly nauseous during most of the journey. They had practiced together a lot of times, testing the boundaries of their link, always tugging until they felt comfortable with somewhat longer distances. While they could not do like witches and actually leave each other for miles and miles on, the hawk-eagle daemon could fly high and come back with tales of what he saw. And what he saw…

“Do you want to go now? Skip sleepin’ and go right away?” McCree asked, his expression suddenly more serious than Hanzo had ever seen him. 

Hanzo took a few more seconds to process everything, his breath condensing into clouds as he crossed his arms on his chest. If their intel was right, Genji had to be close. 

“No,” he decided, shaking his head. “If we have to jump anyone or do anything that requires any form of subtlety, we’ll need to be well-rested. Not close to hypothermia and exhaustion.” 

The smile Hanzo got as an answer was enough to melt all the ice around him and make him feel suddenly much warmer. His gaze must’ve lingered a bit too much, because McCree gave his shoulder a small tap. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get camp ready so we can get all warm and toasty.”

 

*

 

Once camp was up, Hanzo could finally feel like a part of last month’s stress had been lifted off his shoulders. They were not travelling towards an uncertain maybe anymore. There was something at the end of the trail, with a good chance that it might be exactly what they were looking for. This alone made a difference. 

The other difference was how warm he felt compared to an hour ago. The campfire offered enough warmth for Hanzo to remove his gloves and put them to dry on a makeshift clothesline. The stew and coffee McCree had prepared were deliciously hot, making the cold around them feel like a distant memory. Nova and Teijo were conversing in low voices closer to the snowmobile. Hanzo could sometimes catch a snicker and one of them looking his way, Nova acting like it was deliberate and Teijo letting out a squawk to tell him off -- as if he was the one staring from the beginning. Whatever they spoke of seemed to be deeply amusing. 

McCree came back from preparing the tent to make sure there would be no snow in their bedding and sat next to Hanzo, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. The cold had left some frost in his beard that glistened as it was melting away.

“Some of our blankets got wet. We’ll have to share a bedroll tonight.” 

A squawk akin to a laugh came from the snowmobile’s side, a second one silenced by a fox paw hitting Teijo in the chest. Hanzo looked back at McCree, trying to ignore his daemon’s outburst -- which probably failed considering how his cheeks suddenly felt much warmer. 

“If we must. I do not move around a lot, you do not have to worry about having your blankets stolen.” 

“Heh, I ain’t worryin’. You gotta do what you gotta do if you wanna stay warm.” 

A small nod was the only answer Hanzo gave before going back to his own coffee. The anticipation he felt had turned into a different form of nervousness. He glanced back at the other man, took a moment to weigh his words. 

“You know you don’t have to go in with me,” he began, fingers tightly curled around the ceramic mug. “I paid you to guide me to this place, not to go through… whatever they have in store for interlopers like myself.” 

McCree seemed to be taken aback by the change in subject, amber colored eyes going wide. “You don’t expect I’ll let you go in there all by yourself, right? You’re not serious.” He paused, and during that moment Hanzo felt like his gaze was stripping him bare to read every single one of his emotions without giving him any chance to hide them. 

“Shit, Hanzo, we’ve been doin’ this for weeks now, and you don’t want me to see the endgame? That’s not okay, not okay at all--” 

“It’s not about being okay or not,” Hanzo cut in, frowning. “You’ve done more than enough for me, more than whatever amount of money I gave you can buy. I am not bringing you in--” 

“You think you might not come out of there alive.” 

McCree had effectively reduced his employer to silence, his gaze softening with something Hanzo could only associate with sadness. Nova had left her chilling spot and had walked back to her human, leaning against his side. 

“What goal does it serve if you don’t come out of there? You get there, shit goes down, you don’t come back out, your brother doesn’t come out either. It doesn’t take a genius to do that math, Hanzo.” 

Hanzo swallowed, his mug suddenly becoming easier to stare at than having to look at McCree in the eyes. 

“Your payment--” 

“Darlin’,” McCree sighed, shaking his head. “Sugar, if I didn’t care at all and did stuff only accordin’ to the cash you gave me, I would’ve left not at the last village we saw, but the one before that. You’d think bein’ around me for a couple weeks would put in your head that you’re not just someone who pays the bills anymore?” Hanzo moved to speak, only to be shushed by a finger on his lips. “Nope, you don’t get a say in that. We’re travellin’ partners, we’re friends, and I ain’t gonna listen to whatever you say about me not goin’. Understood?”

For a moment, Hanzo considered fighting back. He wanted to be angry -- anger was always easier. It gave him momentum and strength. The exhaustion from the long journey from his home in Oxford to Bolvangar had caught up on him, as well as how fond he had grown of McCree. His final answer was a quiet thank you punctuated by a nod. 

“You care a lot for your brother, right? We’ll get through this and bring him back.” 

Hanzo looked back up after a moment in an attempt to shake the tension away. He caught McCree’s gaze, still soft on him, and looked up to the sky. Curtains of vivid green and purple were descending from the darkness, hovering above them as they painted abstract pictures in the black of night. The lights danced between the white ground and the stars in unpredictable, breathtaking patterns. Green had always been Genji’s favorite color. Hanzo found himself wishing that his brother had caught sight of that phenomenon, wondering if it gave him hope. 

A minute passed in silence. He could tell McCree had turned his gaze to the sky as well, taking the sights in like he did. It was in that moment that Hanzo felt that warm tug in his chest and realized that he wanted to keep sharing moments like that with McCree. That the friendship the man evoked earlier was real, and probably tainted by a deeper fondness. He would need to address these feelings later, when everything would be solved. The next morning, they would have to make their plans before leaving camp. 

Only on the way back home would he allow himself to question what in McCree tugged at his heart strings in that way. Until then, he would simply accept the feeling as it was, and put his trust in his guide. Something good would come out of their partnership, he could feel it. 

When he lied next to the man in their makeshift tent, Hanzo found himself accepting the other’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him on top so they could both sleep without sticking halfway out of the bedroll. Teijo and Nova were huddled up in the tent next to them like two big pompoms of fluffed up feathers and fur. The blankets on top of his form were warm, and McCree’s chest was comfortable enough to be his pillow for the night. Despite the anticipation building up, Hanzo relaxed against his guide, feeling the strong arms around him. McCree’s heartbeat slowly lulled him to sleep, and his last thought before fading was crystal clear. 

Come dawn, they would make things right.


End file.
